


Call Me Son One More Time

by josywbu



Series: Infinite Possible Ways (To Love You) [7]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Avengers Endgame but Tony stark lives, Gen, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, and gets one from the irondad, i think that's a thing you do, peter parker says fuck, teen for swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-27 23:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21127391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josywbu/pseuds/josywbu
Summary: Peter's at Tony's bed side waiting for him to wake up. Then, Captain America shows up and Peter really just wants Tony.Translation into Russian:Назови меня сыном ещё раз





	Call Me Son One More Time

**Author's Note:**

> Eh. I haven't written in ages? And I feel all sorts of rusty and I also just threw this together to get it off my chest and read thorugh it one (1) time. This is what happens when you listen to Hamilton for 4 days straight, I guess. Thought I'd share cause... why not?

“So you’re their last resort, huh?” Peter asks, the dry humor falling from his lips harsh and unfamiliar and wrong, but doesn’t make a move to turn around when Steve Rogers enters the room.

He’s heard the footsteps all the way down the hallway, alternating with the monotone beeping of the heart monitor to his right in an unnerving staccato.

_Beep. Step. Beep. Step. Beep. Step. Beep. _

Now the steps have halted and instead he feels the man pausing in the doorway, his presence alerting something in Peter’s subconscious that he doesn’t dwell on. Like everything else he lets it drone past him, staying in the place in his mind that is only made up of dull, monotonous beeps.

Captain America sighs and takes one more step into the room before closing the door behind him “They are worried for you, son.”

“I’m not your _son_,” he bites back bitterly before he can think about it. His heart squeezes when the word leaves his mouth and tears spring to his eyes that he tries desperately to blink away.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _

He looks down into his lap where his hands are cradling the remains of the shattered arc reactor tenderly.

There’s not much left from the housing unit but the upper part of the frame is still intact and that’s where his thumb inevitably comes to rest. He can feel the slight unevenness in the metal and he doesn’t have to see past the tears that keep on coming to know why it’s there.

There’s another sigh to his left and a part of him wants to start laughing hysterically. Is this what Captain America does when faced with a real teenager? He has half the mind to say that he was more eloquent in the PSA videos but when he opens his mouth he’s surprised by the sob that comes out instead.

He used to joke about these videos with Mister Stark.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _

The presence behind him shifts and his body tenses in anticipation of a touch. When it doesn’t come he forces himself to relax again – muscle by muscle until his posture isn’t so cramped anymore It’s by no means loose but his brain feels less fight-and-flight triggered. He realizes then that his back is hurting from being hunched over for hours on end for the past two days and that his legs are tingling from sitting still.

He remembers the feeling all too way from days spent building the most outlandish Lego sets with Ned, from sitting through ridiculous movies with Aunt May and, as of late, from nights spend in the lab with his mentor – the excitement of creation pushing away everything else until he tries to stand up and almost topples over only to be caught again.

Mister Stark always caught him.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _

“Tony will wake up.”

“You don’t know that.”

No one knows that. They keep telling Peter that, according to all tests they’ve run, he _should_ wake up – he’s supposed to wake up – soon but he knows that they don’t _know_. Because if he could wake up – why is he still laying in that awful white hospital bed that Peter knows he hates.

“No, I don’t,” Steve Rogers amends with yet another sigh and it’s weird because Peter doesn’t even know what he’s wearing but his mind paints him in a brown, loose- knit cardigan and a white, blue, red bowtie, “But I have hope because I know him and I know how much he has to come home to and he’s never given up without a fight before, kid.”

“Don’t call me kid.”

He’s not sure why he’s being so difficult but something about Steve Rogers in his mentor’s hospital room unnerves him. Just him, being there and alive and healthy and walking around and speaking about hope. How _dare_ he? How dare he talk about believing that he’ll wake up when he doesn’t know – can’t understand what’s on the line for Peter.

Pepper understands. Rhodey and Happy do, too. Morgan misses her dad but she can’t grasp the concept of him being gone yet. He almost envies her for that.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _

“Why are you here?” he demands but it’s lacking force when he still isn’t turning around and instead lets his thumb caress the rough engraving of _Peter was here _in the top right corner of the triangle. Unconsciously his grip around the metal tightens and he feels the blood supply to his fingers cut off just as his lungs start protesting painfully because somewhere along the lines he must’ve stopped breathing.

He inhales and unclamps his fingers, watching pink return into his knuckles.

“Your family thought I might be able to –“

“Bullshit,” he cuts him off and doesn’t even feel bad for it. He only feels like more like crying because Mister Stark is supposed to tell him off. He just wants him to tell him off – He wants –

He’s hyperventilating, he realizes distantly, and holds his breath, counting to ten before letting it out. He wants his shoulders to stop shaking and he wants his heart to stop beating so fast and he wants his mind to be quiet. But he knows as long as this room is so eerily quiet, his mind won’t ever shut off. He knows. He _knows_.

He almost forgot about the other person in the room until there’s another sigh. Seriously? Is that all he’s good for? Is that why he’s still walking around instead of – 

“I wanted to check up on him,” he tells him quietly, earnestly and Peter knows he’s sad, he knows he’s worried about his mentor too, but he’s so angry, too, and so bitter and he feels so cold and alone. He whirls around, glaring at the huge blonde man towering a couple of steps away.

“Oh, so now you’re feeling bad for abandoning him?” he spits out, right hand tightening around the arc reactor again. The one they worked on together. The one Mister Stark kept all those years. The one he wore when everyone came back. The one he wore when he looked so close to death, Peter could’ve sworn the reaper has had his hands already on it.

“You’re – you’re _enhanced_,” he accuses him and hates the tears stinging his eyes making him look like a child throwing a tantrum. “You could’ve – you were _supposed_ to help him. It should’ve been you. It should’ve been anyone but –“ He screws his eyes shut trying to keep from crying but knowing from the tickling in his nose that that’s a lost cause.

“You’re right. And I’m sorry, kid.”

“Don’t _call_ me that,” he interrupts heatedly.

Captain America doesn’t care much about his antics, though, he just keeps going. “I’m sorry about a lot of things. There’s so many things I still have to talk to to Tony. There’s things I need to ask for forgiveness for, things I need to thank him for and I know we have been… estranged before but I know him well enough that he doesn’t regret what he’s done. I’ve seen him work relentlessly towards this. I’ve heard him talk about you –“

He tries to not squish the reactor in his hands but he is so angry and so helpless and he doesn’t know what to do and he just wants Steve Rogers to leave him alone again. He wants him far away from Mister Stark and he wants Mister Stark to wake up and tell him that himself. He wants to be held. He just wants to be held.

“Tony loved you a lot, son, and –“

He has _enough_ of this. 

“Call me son one more time and I’ll –“

_Snap. _

He crushes the remains of the reactor in his palm, barely feeling the sting of the metal piercing his skin because –

_Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep_

“’ete?”

He turns around slowly, eyes wide and heart afraid. He’s scared to be disappointed but he’s heard it and he’d recognize that voice in a sea of billions and – he blinks.

“Mister Stark?” he whispers and steps forward as if he’s being pulled by invisible strings.

“Hi kid,” the man in question babbles with a lopsided grin, eyes unfocused until they land on Peter and then he frowns when he looks further, then settles back on him. “Y’ok’y?”

“Am I –“ he cuts himself off incredulously, “I’m –“ a hysteric bout of laughter leaves his lips and hurts in his chest before turning into a sob, “I’m- - _fuck_ – you’re _alive_.”

The man makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat and it’s all Peter needs to fall forward and into his chest where Tony awkwardly puts an arm around him, trying to calm him down but it’s not working.

Because Mister Stark is awake and Peter broke the arc reactor and Captain America is in the same room and Mister Stark’s breath is in his ear and his beard scratches his temple as he moves to press a kiss to his hair and he’s being held and Mister Stark is alive and, for the first time in days, Peter feels some of the tenseness leak out of his body and his vision is dizzy but it doesn’t matter because Mister Stark is there to catch him.

“Uff, kid, you might, uh, might wanna take it easy on your old man here for a bit.”

As if hit by lightning Peter jumps away from the bed, afraid to have hurt his mentor in any way, eyes flitting between the monitor with his vital signs and the man himself.

“Nu- uh, come back, Pete,” he reaches out and, as if on second thought, turns his head to the other superhero in the room who hasn’t uttered a word yet, “And, Steve, would ya mind getting me some water? A nurse maybe? This headache is _killing_ me. Oh and tell –”

Peter barely hears his reply because Mister Stark is scooting over, motioning for him to join him on the rather narrow bed and he can’t really form a coherent thought but he lets himself be guided until his ear is resting on the older man’s chest and he can hear is heart beat in unison with the monitor and there’s a hand in his hair and Mister Stark is _alive_.

When he speaks, his voice reverberates through Peter’s entire body and it’s the best feeling ever.

“So you don’t like Captain America calling you son, son?”

“You’re awful,” he mumbles into his chest and tucks himself under his mentor’s chin more firmly. “No one even talks like that anymore.”

They’re quiet for a moment after that but Peter can already hear the commotion coming down the hallway. A small, selfish part wishes they would take longer to get here.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Mister Stark,” he whispers just as the door flies open and the whole room starts becoming a flurry of activity. His heart soars when he feels another kiss pressed to the top of his head and being hugged even tighter to his chest.


End file.
